


"Found Family"

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Between eps 69 and 86 critical role, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Manipulation, Mind Control, One-Sided Attraction, alcohol to numb, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 10:22:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30104487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: A conversation from a time rapidly fading to the back of her mind echoes as Obann talks and talks and talks and painfully takes up her whole world once more.
Relationships: Obann/Yasha (Critical Role)
Kudos: 12





	"Found Family"

_Sometimes, found family is better—_ the words echo in her mind as Obann places two fingers under her chin, tilting her head up to make her eyes meet his.

“We will do mighty things together now that we are reunited, dear Orphanmaker. It has been a long few years as I have traveled and taken other companions, others dedicated to our cause. But none have been as excellent as you. As fierce, as ruthless as you can be, when you allow yourself to be free, and follow my lead.” Obann smiles, his wings shifting restlessly on his back as he leans closer to her face. The two fingers below her chin slide further, until he is cupping her neck with one hand.

“Together, again, at last. Isn’t it wonderful?” he barely pauses before continuing, his voice dropping registers to be low, hypnotizing. “Together we will take on the world, an unstoppable family, following the Angel of Irons and journeying together. Fighting side by side once again, sharing the same hearths, the same stories. Inextricably linked, we are.”

 _sometimes, found family is better_.

Obann squeezes lightly, his hand at her throat. Not enough to constrict her breathing, but enough to feel through the haze her mind is perpetually under. His breath is hot against her face and she hears his wings jostling against his back as he leans impossibly closer. His other hand creeping to the ground on her side, locking her between the roots of the tree she’d been leaning against and the devil before her.

“How I’ve missed you in your absence. Our family wouldn’t be complete without you. I’m so happy you came back to me in time to meet our third member. Soon I will have a lead on another who will join us. Don’t be jealous, dear, there’s enough room for all of us, here,” Obann purrs in her ear, watching his words land on her nearly expressionless face.

_found family is better-_

His hand creeps down her throat, still squeezing, until it slides to her chest and he grips her tunic tightly between the near-claws of his fingertips.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what we had in the years we’ve been apart, Orphanmaker. I remember when you would tell me I was unlike any other you’d ever seen.”

She grips a root so tight she can feel it splinter and pierce her hand. Obann’s eyes dart down to it and back up to her face. His grin grows more pronounced.

_sometimes found family is-_

“Oh, your memory still gives you trouble. How I hope to help you, dear Orphanmaker, in retrieving your lost destiny as we continue down our path. In recalling and experiencing all the glory to be shared between us. Within this found family we will be once again.”

_found family_

Obann releases her tunic and slips his hand into it in the same motion. She takes a sharp breath, eyes widening minutely, but she can't pull away. She feels the blood on her palm drip warm to the ground as Obann continues to speak grand words of destiny and family and glory in her ear, pushing her firmly to the tree. Its rough bark scraping against the swords slung over her shoulders and digging into her uncomfortably.

She knows she is used to being uncomfortable. She barely notices as Obann’s fiery words and body closes over her, still talking. Always, always talking.

_sometimes-_

Her eyes close against words spoken against her body, a lick of flames spreading over her, searing her skin.

_it’s better-_

“None could compare to you, Orphanmaker. None could imitate your power, your rage. Your single-minded dedication to _us—“_

_family_

“Once we have our fourth, we will be so much closer to releasing the Angel, and they will reward us handsomely, Orphanmaker, more so than any of our wildest dreams-“

_sometimes found_

She is too weak to fight his control, tonight. She barely remembers she is under his leash at all, and those nights are the most dangerous. When he has tightened the enchantment and loosened his tongue and allowed her a few swigs of something strong enough to knock down a lesser man-

_found_

She cannot even jerk away. A few tears find their way down her cheeks from her tightly closed eyes as Obann talks and talks and talks and touches and explores and discovers how time has changed her in her absence from his family-

_A woman’s voice, low and husky, sitting and staring out at the dying embers of a campfire. Sometimes she would send curious looks her direction, but lately those had been traded out for compassion and small hope. A vulnerability neither could have imagined mere months ago, if ever._

_“Sometimes found family is better, y’know?”_

_She hadn’t said anything in return to the quiet question. But she’d nodded, thinking of the circus, of her first friend after leaving the tribe, after losing time she can’t account for._

“I look forward to re-igniting you passion, Orphanmaker. It’s no fun if you don’t show a little of your spirit. It’s only kind. And in this family, we are _kind_ to each other, understood?” Obann has moved his hand back to grip her chin tightly, fingernails digging in, sure to leave little crescent marks once she is released.

_Sometimes found family is_

He pats her cheek condescendingly, a small sting as he stands, stretching his arms and walking a few paces away to call out into the night air for Hand to return.

The ground is humming with Hand’s return, the wild laughter of his many mouths accompanying his heavy steps. Obann shares a few words with him before sending him off once more. Hand glances at her from under his hood, once Obann’s back is turned, and she almost thinks she sees an emotion other than crazed determination or mindless rage in their depths. But just as quick as he arrived, he’s gone, lumbering back into the dark night.

“He will protect us tonight, take a perimeter watch around our camp site. But I’m not quite ready to sleep, yet, Orphanmaker. Oh how ever shall we pass the time, I wonder?”

She digs the splintered wood in her hand deeper into the wound on her hand, feeling fresh blood seep from the minute wound, watering the ground beneath her.

Obann stalks closer to her, his smirking grin in place, mouth already opening to keep talking to her. To sit beside her and offer another swig of some strong liquor and lean too close into her space and touch her and call them destined to be together and-

_sometimes found family is worse_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. This wasn't going to be a happy story, but thanks for sticking around. 
> 
> As always, let me know if I missed a tag.


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